Haunted
by piccolina789
Summary: A song fic about Grissom and Sara's relationship, post-GB&GL. A little angsty. I'm trying something new.


**A/N: My first attempt at a song fic. The idea's been rolling around in my head for a few weeks, but I _finally_ had the motivation to write it out. I feel like the lyrics fit this time in Sara and Grissom's relationship perfectly. I've been writing a lot of fluff as of late, so I wanted to try something different. **

**The song is "Haunted" by Kelly Clarkson. (If you haven't heard her "My December" album, by the way, it's perfect for an angsty mood)**

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Louder, louder, the voices in my head_

_Whispers taunting, all the things you said_

_Faster the days go by and I'm still_

_Stuck in this moment of wanting you here_

Grissom closed the door and turned to face a dark, empty apartment. He groped his way through the darkness to his living room couch, not even caring enough to flip on the lights before sinking into it. On the coffee table (a table that she, coincidentally, had coerced him into purchasing at a flea market), was a crumpled piece of paper. It was ironic, that he still had it. That he read it every night. Considering how painful it was for his eyes to skim the words on the page, he should have thrown it away, or hid it in some obscure place, to be forgotten and never to be read again. But it was the only thing in his home he had left of her. That, and a coconut-scented bottle of conditioner she'd left in the shower. He stared at it every morning. And read the note every night.

His heart would grow heavier with every sentence his eyes devoured. He had it memorized by now, but he lived to stare at her words on the page, the words that were written by her hand. It was pathetic, and he knew it. But, over the weeks, as their phone conversations grew sparser, he found his eyes traveling over that piece of paper more times than he was willing to count.

"Know that you are my one and only. I'll miss you with every beat of my heart. Our life together was the only home I've ever really had. I wouldn't trade it for anything. I love you. I always will. Goodbye."

Goodbye. It was when that word reflected in the blue of his eyes that Grissom could feel himself crumble.

How? How could he have missed the signs? Thinking back, closing his eyes and picturing her face in his mind, there were so many signs. He loved her more than anything. And he had let her down.

He wanted her here. He wanted her to be with him. All day, every day, all to himself. The townhouse was drowning him, filled with the moments that were now only memories, loaded with the threat that there would never be any more.

_Time, in the blink of an eye_

_You held my hand, you held me tight_

_Now you're gone and I'm still crying_

_Shocked, broken, I'm dying inside_

Somehow, Grissom had moved from sitting, staring at Sara's letter, to lying, stretched out on the couch, the letter clutched to his chest. If he closed his eyes, he could picture her there. He could almost feel her thin, warm fingers intertwined with his. He pressed his eyes tighter and he stepped back from the scene, now a third-party viewer, and he watched himself and Sara lying in bed, wrapped around each other. It seemed like just yesterday that she was there.

He felt moisture drip down his cheek. His eyes were squeezed together so tightly, he was surprised it had found a crack to sneak out of. He sighed as he brushed the tear away with one shaking hand. This was not normal, this was not him. He didn't cry. Yet, this was not the first time he'd cried since he'd first read those words on that paper. Not the first time he'd cried since she'd left him. His whole life, he only cried for Sara.

It was wrong. It was all wrong. This was never the way things were meant to end. They were never _supposed_ to end. Not them. This happened to other people. Not to him and not to Sara. Not to his Sara.

He clutched the letter closer to his chest, because his heart was literally aching.

_Where are you? I need you_

_Don't leave me here on my own_

_Speak to me, be near me_

_I can't survive unless I know you're with me_

The darkness was pressing in on him, threatening to overtake him. The townhouse was always warm and inviting, when it was _their _home. With touches of her sprinkled from the kitchen to the living room - a bathrobe hung over the footboard of their bed, her purple toothbrush next to his green one in the cup on the sink. The stacks of books she had moved from her place to his, pushing them into neat rows onto his bookshelf, next to his texts on entomology and chess. Her vegetarian cookbooks she kept in the cupboard above the stove. And most of all, the picture of them in San Francisco, the Golden Gate Bridge peeking from behind them, that she had tacked on his fridge with a magnet the very afternoon she moved in with him.

He felt anger rising within his chest. How could she do this to him? Didn't she know that she was his whole life? How did she expect him to live, here, in _their _home, without her? He couldn't do it.

He sat upright once more, tossing the crinkled letter back on the chocolate brown coffee table and burying his head in his hands. His head was swirling, his heart pounding. He couldn't do it.

Slowly, he made his way to what used to be his favorite room in the house. Now, he dreaded every moment he spent there.

_Shadows linger, only to my eye_

_I see you, I feel you, don't leave my side_

_It's not fair, just when I found my world_

_They took you, they broke you, they tore out your heart_

On the short journey to the bedroom, he passed three pictures. Three moments frozen in time that he so desperately wanted to revisit, and sadness sunk over him once more.

One was a picture of the team at the annual police department banquet, all of them dressed to the nines with beaming smiles on their faces. Grissom remembered sharing a dance with Sara that night. It was before their relationship was public knowledge, so he had to act cool, spend equal time with each female. But he kept sending her glances, small smiles and quick winks to let her know she was on his mind the entire time. She looked exquisite that night.

Next to that antiqued frame (another flea market find of Sara's) was a bright blue one, framing a picture that was much too zoomed in. The picture showed only half of Sara's face – half of her sparkling eyes, half of her wide smile and half of her crinkled nose. Sneaking into the left side of the frame were his own lips and nose, pressed against Sara's cheek. Even though the photo gave no hints, Grissom knew exactly when and where that picture was taken – at the top of Mount Charleston, which they had climbed on their first anniversary with a picnic basket full of wine and food. Sara had turned the camera backwards on them, not realizing how closely zoomed the lens was from the shot taken beforehand. Grissom had kissed her cheek, seconds before Sara's finger pressed the camera's button, resulting in her unplanned and completely genuine smile. She wanted to retake it, he had refused. He loved its candidness. He loved it. He loved her.

The third memory, bordered by a simple metallic frame, was on Grissom's bedroom dresser. It was his very favorite picture. He had taken it just days before Sara's kidnapping, on an afternoon trip to Red Rock. She had been sitting peacefully, looking at the sights, when he raised the camera. She caught him in the act, and turned towards him, the corners of her mouth turning up and her eyes narrowing ever so slightly, teasing him. He snapped the picture, and when he had printed it, he fell in love with her all over again. The look of relaxed amusement on her face, the sparkle in her eyes, the freckles spread across her nose, the bright sunlight highlighting her dark hair and bouncing off her shoulders, added to the brilliant background of the Nevada desert, Grissom could sit for hours, just staring at that picture.

They hadn't had enough time together. Not nearly enough. It seemed his whole life was one long journey leading him to her, and much too soon, it was all taken away. She was his world. His whole world. And now, he had nothing.

_I miss you, you hurt me, you left with a smile_

_Mistaken, your sadness was hiding inside_

_Now all that's left are the pieces to find_

_The mystery you kept, the soul behind a guise_

On the way to the bed, Grissom lost his shoes, but he collapsed on the mattress fully clothed, too exhausted to remove any one piece of his attire. All these weeks later, he still slept entirely on the left side. The right side was hers.

Where was she? What was she doing? Was she thinking of him? Was she missing him, the way he missed her?

She had ghosts. He knew that. He knew, even long before she had opened up to him that afternoon, after being suspended. But there was so much he didn't know. So many sides of her he never got to see, so much he didn't understand. She needed to do this. He knew that. But deep down in his heart, he wished that she would have trusted him enough to catch her when she fell. To help her pick up the pieces. Let him get a glimpse behind the façade she so fiercely upheld while at work.

_Why did you go?_

_All these questions run through my mind_

_I wish I couldn't feel at all_

_Let me be numb, I'm starting to fall_

If only he could forget. It would make things so much easier. If only he could re-teach himself how to detach, how to feel nothing at all, how to move on. But it was too late. He was irrevocably, inexplicably attached. He would never move on.

Would she ever come back? Would it be the same? Would _she_ be the same? Could he ever work up the courage to come after her? Could he risk his entire life in order to have her? Was their love the stuff of novels, of epics, of works of art? Were they meant to be?

So many questions. All of them unanswered…

_Where are you? I need you_

_Don't leave me here on my own_

_Speak to me, be near me_

_I can't survive unless I know you're with me_

Grissom rolled to his side and buried his face into the nearest pillow.

"Come back to me, Sara," he murmured into it. "I can't do this anymore. I can't… I need you. I…"

He missed her _so damn much_. He wanted her here so fucking badly. He wanted to hear her voice, soft and low, through the darkness. He wanted to feel her warmth next to him, their fingers touching, their hearts beating wildly, both of them surprising a wide grin. He wanted to burry his face in her tussled curls and feel her fingers rake through his. He wanted to so much. He would give anything. Anything. He couldn't do this anymore.

_Where are you? (Where are you? I need you)_

_Don't leave me here on my own_

Stuck. No way out. He couldn't do this anymore. He needed her. He couldn't stay here alone, day after damn day, alone. There was no way. No way out.

_Where are you? _

_(I can't survive unless I know you're with me)_

She was his life and she kept him living. Without her, he couldn't live. It was simple. It was terrifying.

No way. No way out of this darkness.

_You were smiling_

_You were smiling_

_You were smiling_

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**As always, your thoughts are welcome! Thanks for reading :) **_


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